suwa

suwa

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There are moments when the world comes together, when an epiphany strikes like an ill-placed lightning bolt. This is not one of those times. She is thrown into the world with a blink and a sigh, and before she knows it, the epiphany that she wished she had is but an unfortunate calling.

still

She sat as still as a statue in the still air of a still night, perched on a window sill. And as she grinned to herself in the moonlight, she wondered if he could see her from his perch in the clouds, if he could see her pale porcelain face smiling down at the world.

The setting of the scene was awful; it was like Richard decided to copy an old Hollywood film for what it was worth, trash. She scorned his thinking process, really, because foam trees kept trying to press their branches into her eyes, and the scene was really deplorable.

He was pressed for time. The clock face was mocking him with its waving arms and effortless work. Oh, how much he hated that smirking face.

trade

The tricks of the trade made her head hurt more often than not. All the loopholes and all the laws drove her insane with the need to memorize them all, as if she had all the time in the world to dedicate time for that. So, instead, she used her common sense and bypassed those cheap tricks and found her own way instead.

The division between their families wasn't so great that they could never be friends, but it was great enough that they could never be lovers. The animosity caused their hearts to swell with unknown feelings and for their tear ducts to mount with tears. It also allowed that feeling to morph into love.

mist

The mist held onto her clothes as she entered the building, pieces of it trailing for her feet as if it were a manifestation of Hermes' wings. She strode forward, confident and strong, until a blast of air dispersed the mist, and she was left with a sudden chill.

He didn't have the chance to speak before the tsunami hit. Its loud roar echoed in the caverns, as if it were using sound to seek him out. He hit under his bag, crouching down low, waiting for the others to flee. This would be his time; when the rest of the crew fled, he would have the chance to snatch away the treasure.

Tired. I am so tired that the destruction of my health seems imminent. Tired. The destruction of my mindset seems prevalent among all that ails me. Tired. I collapse onto the ground in a fit of exhaustion. Tried. I tried to stop the destruction, but it was too late.

It was raining last night, but she didn't bring an umbrella, instead letting the rain drench her. She yawned under the porch overhanging, feeling drops of acid rain touch her hand, but not caring if it burned.

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writing since 1969 · 56 entries · 55 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Suwa showed up.

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55days written

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on this day 15 years ago

Suwa wrote about chance
“He didn't have the chance to speak before the tsunami hit. Its loud roar echoed in the caverns, as if it were using sound to seek him out. He hit under his bag, crouching down low, waiting for the ot…”

the words Suwa reaches for

eyestinyfacewrongraintearswindrunlacksleepherselffrozenfeethousesununderneath